Strangeness and Charm
by PrettyRevenge
Summary: Has anyone else noticed how odd Miranda has been acting lately, or is it just Andy? Set after Paris but Andy never left. Rating will change.
1. Ch 1 Enter the Dragon

A/N: As you may know, I don't own DWP :)

Strangeness and Charm

Chapter One: Enter the Dragon

New York traffic itself seemed to sense the mood emanating from the black Mercedes. The cars all moved quickly, almost frantically trying to get out the vehicle's way. Roy, the chauffer, stared straight ahead, determined to make it to his destination in the next two minutes. He forced himself not to glance up when he heard the methodic tapping of manicured nails on a door handle. His passenger was clearly getting impatient, despite having made nearly every light from here to the townhouse. Upon making it to the desired location he pulled up to the curb, mindful not to park near any puddles. He all but flew out the car to round its corner and open the door. He stood at attention and sighed mentally when he received no belittling remarks about his navigational skills.

Miranda stepped out of the Mercedes, adjusted her Louis Vuitton sunglasses and proceeded to glide towards the revolving doors of Elias-Clarke. The lobby was littered with half-starved models, burly businessmen, disheveled writers, eager promoters and nervous investors. All manner of life thrived in this lobby, like a giant petri dish. Said ameba's all caught sight of her and seemed to visibly propel themselves away, as though she had some sort of force field surrounding her. The noise within the lobby dropped several octaves, just enough to hear the clacking her red Jimmy Choos made on the marble floor. Every click struck panic into each of them, reminding them momentarily that she was one to be feared.

She ignored the security guard, who nodded curtly to her, not needing to see a pass. As she approached the elevators two wispy models practically fell over themselves to get out of her way. They muttered a bashful "Morning Miranda" to which they received no reply. The editor entered the elevator, mashed the floor number for Runway and starred ahead as the doors slid closed.

The ping signaling the end of the elevators assent to Runway struck at exactly 8:30 and was just loud enough to alert the entire floor of Miranda's arrival. From an outsider's point of view, one would think they were gearing to receive the pope himself. Racks of clothing were being flung to their proper corners, designers ran around rustling papers and muttering prayers, assistants typed away nervously trying to look competent and visiting models did their best to seem effortless. Anyone who was not having a nervous breakdown was either going to or had already collapsed. Everyone wanted to do their best, to both gain recognition and refrain from becoming target practice for their boss's soul shattering criticism.

Miranda ripped her glasses from her face and nearly knocked Emily over as she made her way towards her office. The scowl she held could turn anyone to stone. Her ice blue eyes narrowed and darted from left to right, looking for any sign of imperfection to release her fury upon. Every back visibly straightened as she passed, and no one dared meet her gaze. Nigel approached, intent on discussing something, took one look at Miranda's face and neatly headed in the opposite direction.

She entered her office area and was greeted by Andy who was just throwing away the empty Starbucks holder. Andy smiled and was about to give her usual greeting when Emily (who was scampering behind Miranda) shot her an irritated look as if to say 'Don't even bother trying.' Miranda tore her coat from her body and flung it along with her purse in Andy's general direction. She caught them both but nearly stumbled from the force.

Once Miranda was in her office she began to fire off a list of "impossible tasks" for both Emily and Andy to have done this morning. Andy hurried into the room just as she began.

"I need Lagerfeld confirmed for the winter spread, if Opal answers tell them I want Lana. That girl is such an idiot. I want jackets for the shoot tomorrow, not those horrid monstrosities from last week. Have Marie set up the accessories that were decided upon. And relate to her that if I see one more carnelian piece come from her department she can pack her things today. Confirm lunch with Donatella at that French café. Cancel my 10:30 meeting and reschedule for next week, that should give that incompetent fool time to redo those ghastly designs. Move my 11:15 up to that time slot, and make sure there is plenty of space. Last time" and at this she gave Emily a withering look "someone decided we could make do with a room that wasn't even fit for Patricia. Contact Cara and have her retrieve the girls from school, they let out early today. Call my lawyers and set up a time to meet tomorrow, preferably before lunch. Contact Iman about the spread for next month. And tell Raoul no, I don't agree with the direction the collection is taking and if he wants to make it into the next issue I strongly suggest he rethink the entire thing or perhaps look into a brain transplant."

The list continued much in this fashion for nearly ten minutes. It was a wonder if the woman had bothered to take a breath through it all. With every new task Emily looked closer and closer to a panic attack. They were both finishing their scribbles when Miranda paused. They looked up and found she had begun typing furiously onto her laptop, no doubt some scathing email to a poor designer. "I don't understand why I have to deal with such moronic fools…" she trailed off, and not looking from her laptop she practically hissed "That's all."

Emily visibly stumbled back into the waiting area and sat shakily at her desk, preparing to make calls and mumbling that all familiar mantra "I love my job. I love my job." For someone who loved her job so much, she looked very close to jumping out the nearest window. She began blinking rapidly, whether that was due to the alarming amount of eye shadow she donned or her impending tears, was unclear.

Andy made it to her own desk and hurriedly turned on her computer. Today was clearly going to be a double shot after hour's kind of day. As the machine booted she looked towards Miranda apprehensively. The woman was now pacing her office, prowling around like a caged lion. She was muttering something eligible into her phone, gesticulating absent mindedly towards the New York scene outside. Her body radiated frustration: the fine lines her makeup strove to smooth appeared faintly in the natural light, her lips were pursed into the firmest of lines, and her forelock fell loosely over her face shaking with every move of her head. She had taken off her suit jacket to reveal the figure fitting blouse underneath, clearly finding it uncomfortable.

Andy sighed and typed in her password. She snuck one more look at her boss before looking at the schedule she had set up. Miranda was abnormally beautiful today. Well, she looked great every day, but today… Andy didn't know. Maybe it was the way her cheeks flushed angrily, how her hair fell defiantly against her forehead or even the wrinkle of disgust that threatened to appear on her well-structured face. Andy could think of a hundred things she found beautiful about Miran-

A much exaggerated clearing of the throat could be heard from across the room, interrupting Andy's thoughts. She snapped her head up and sure enough Emily was giving her the best snarl she could manage given her shaken appearance.

"Is there some reason you haven't left yet? Are you finally too fat to lift yourself up?" she snorted and proceeded to punch another number into the phone. Andy rolled her eyes. She was not going to feed into Emily's mood today. The last thing she needed was an angry Miranda and a peevish Emily. That was sure to be a recipe for disaster. She finished the adjustments to the schedule and sent it off. As she did she noticed a new email in her folder. She was tempted to ignore it for later but went ahead a clicked on it.

Upon reading it she stifled a gasp.

It was from Miranda.

'_I'm attending a gala tonight, be ready to leave by 8. Let Emily handle the book.'_

That was all it said. No explanation as to why she had to attend or anything. Things like this; charity balls and benefits for groups with nothing to do with Elias-Clarke usually fell under "solo trip". But for some reason Miranda wanted Andy to come along. Perhaps something important was going to happen and she needed a note taker? Or maybe she simply wanted to make sure she had a backup in case she forgot a name? By now Andy had become pretty good at naming faces of celebrities and the New York elite. Even so, this was still weird. Would not people find it strange that Miranda Priestly was lugging her assistant to such an exclusive gathering of the rich and famous?

Andy began to ask her why in response, but thought better of it. When did Miranda ever explain her intentions up front? She'd find out as it happened, as usual. So she sent a simple "_Yes Miranda."_ And deleted it. Just in case Emily decided to put her snooping skills to use. She stood up and went to grab her coat casting a sidelong look at Emily who was busy verbally sidestepping Opal for Lana. She shook her head and wondered what Emily would think of her going to an unplanned event with Miranda. She quickly abandoned the thought, grimacing at the idea of Emily having some sort of convulsive seizure in response.

She trotted out of the office, bracing herself for the amount of tasks she had to accomplish before the evening. Just as she made it within sights of the elevators she ran into Nigel who was heading towards Miranda's office. Apparently he'd built up his courage enough to try again.

"In a hurry six?" he asked, critically eyeing her disheveled jacket. Andy noticed and quickly made to fix it, fidgeting visibly.

"That bad huh?" Nigel said eyeing Mirada's office over the rim of his glasses.

Andy failed to mention her nervousness was due to a certain invitation and decided to go along with the obvious. "You have no idea Nigel. Geez I don't know what she's mad about but God help the person who caused it."

Nigel bit his lip "Honey please, whoever caused this has likely been put out of his misery already. We're the ones in need of mercy." He shot another apprehensive look towards the office and sighed. "I better get it over with. Marie just gave me the photos of the pieces she chose."

"Oh not carnelian I hope."

"Ugh yes, I don't know who she thinks would want to wear- wait how did you…?"

Andy winced "Miranda mentioned not wanting to see it. You may wanna hold off on that. Maybe get Marie to switch it out with something else. Anything else."

Nigel rolled his eyes and placed a hand on his hip. "Oh great, that'll be fun. Now I get to navigate my way through yet another bitch-fit. If she gets in my face again I'll show her she's not the only one who has claws." He muttered as he began to walk away. Andy pressed the down button for the elevator. Just as it opened she remembered something and shouted after Nigel.

"Can I borrow something later?" he waved his hand without turning around giving the okay but clearly to preoccupied to ask why. With that Andy entered the elevator and began the decent to the lobby and the rest of her day.


	2. Ch 2 Old and New

A/N: As you know, I don't own DWP.

Chapter Two: Old and New

Andy looked down at her phone and up at the building before her. Yup, both addresses matched, this must be it. She grabbed the handle of the door and pulled, the glass door was stiffer than it looked. Beyond was a lobby, its walls were white and the floor was polished cream marble. Around the room hung several black and white pictures of New York scenes. Andy took a moment to appreciate the photographs and smiled as she recognized one of them as Lily's.

Lily. She hadn't seen her old friend in months, not sense she bumped into her at the art museum. And that had been- awkward to say the least. They said hello and gave each other stiff "I'm-afraid-to-touch-you" hugs. They then exchanged pleasantries and clipped views on the painting before them. Just when Andy had the courage to ask if she'd like to hang out sometime Lily looked around the gallery, spotted a girl starring at a sculpture and quickly excused herself. It was awful watching her walk up to the girl and playfully push her. Their giggles could be heard throughout the room. Andy didn't finish the exhibit.

Looking at the photo before her made her sad about Lily and Doug, even Nate. She missed her life before Runway. She missed waking up to the smell of greasy bacon and omelets. She missed meeting up with the gang after work and cracking jokes about the corny people at the bars. She missed listening to Doug's latest exploits and Lily's new projects. Sometimes she wished…

Andy sighed, it wouldn't do to reminisce about the past she'd left behind. There was no point in wishing them all back. And why should she? None of them stood beside her in her pursuit of her dream. Yes the path she's taking to it was slightly different than the original idea, but it was still the one she had chosen. She'd chosen Runway, a path to success. Why couldn't she have that and her friends?

_'__That's what happens when you start doing well at work. Let me know when your entire life goes up in smoke, then it's time for a promotion_.'

Andy grimaced as she remembered what Nigel said. She didn't want to admit it, but maybe he was right.

The ping of an elevator brought her from her musings. She half expected Miranda to appear. Instead a tall woman with a mess of curled hair piled atop her head walked out. Her pink VS hoodie and jean shorts made Andy long for when she could wear such clothing in public. (Those items were confined to weekends only.) The woman looked around the lobby and when she spotted Andy she smiled showing her perfect white teeth.

"Ms. Sachs?" she asked revealing her English accent.

Andy smiled back and made to shake the woman's hand only to receive a hug in response. Shocked, Andy giggled nervously when she let her go. This was going to be an interesting visit.

"P- please call me Andy, everyone calls me Andy." She corrected the Englishwoman as she dug around her purse for her notepad.

"Okie dokie _Ahndee_." She said happily. "Then you can call me Nana. Everyone calls me that." By the end of this sentence "Nana" had pulled Andy to the open elevator. She pushed for the 12th floor with her turquoise acrylic nail. Still smiling, she shoved her hands in the pouch of her hoody and hummed. Was that Star Wars?

Andy cleared her throat and looked over her notepad. It said that she was supposed to pick up jackets from this address. Of course the description and quantity were excluded. Andy hoped Nana had the answer to that. When they reached the floor Nana led them to door 312A, she slid her access card and let Andy in first.

Andy stared in wonder. How anyone could function in such a mess was beyond her. Piles of books, papers and cloth were stacked from nearly floor to ceiling and most of the windows were covered in sketches. Garments and fabrics lay scattered about the floor and random mannequins stood at various openings throughout the room. You could scarcely tell it was a studio apartment at all.

Nana grabbed Andy's hand again and led her through the maze until they reached the other end of the apartment. In this corner stood three racks of clothing from what appeared to be three separate collections. Nana gestured for Andy to have a seat on a plush panda chair while she riffled through the racks. Andy retained the urge to "aww" and proceeded with the visit.

"So Miranda wanted me to retrieve the new jackets. Something about not wanting the ones from last week." She said the last part carefully, trying not to offend Nana. Though something told her this woman was not easily offended.

The designer laughed/snorted from her racks, pulling out a garment covered by a protector. She gave Andy an incredulous look, quirking a perfect eyebrow.

"Oh I had nothing to do with that train-wreck. I saw them just the other day too. Really, Raquel ought to have known better than to hand Miranda a bright-as-sin yellow peplum jacket and call it "fresh and innovative". He deserved the tongue lashing he got. Anyway" she began unzipping the garment bag. "I was the one left picking up the pieces wasn't I? She called me not but a week ago demanding I make 'er a fresh batch."

"Well you know she's a perfectionist-" Andy began weakly.

"She's bat-shit crazy is what she is. But I guess so…"

She pulled out the piece and Andy smiled slightly. It was a deep navy blue military style jacket with gold buttons, somehow Nana gave a nod to both the past and the future in this one piece. She thanked God she wouldn't receive Miranda's Glare of Eternal Death for this at least.

"That looks great, how many did you make?"

"Ten." Nana answered grumpily.

Andy gapped, ten was quite a few in so short a time frame. Judging by Nana's mock blubbering she agreed. She had just finished sniffing and wiping away an imaginary tear when she said "Course I had to eh? What with her letting me dress her for the party this evening and all. I'd hate to lose that kind of advertisement. Miranda Priestly wearing something by me? Imagine that." Andy couldn't help but smile as Nana practically glowed before her. Yes, that would certainly skyrocket the new designer's career. It always amazed Andy how that worked. One nod from Miranda and your garment was a roaring success. One smile and your collection was phenomenal. One night with her wearing your design and your career was practically set.

As Andy took the rolling case (thank God) that held all the jackets she couldn't help but ask: "So what did you make for her?"

Nana tapped her nose and winked. "Ah ah ah nosey, not until tonight. See you Ahndee!" Nana smiled again and waved Andy off to the elevator.

* * *

Nigel was already waiting for her when Andy arrived four hours later from her errands. Miranda was having lunch with Donatella and her services would not be needed until she arrived at the office later on. So this was as good a time as any to visit.

The lights shined brightly over the large room they deemed The Closet. The floors reflected the light and made everything seem clean and expensive. Andy walked up to Nigel who was already holding up a black dress. As she approached he held it up to her and examined. She wordlessly gushed, it was a long velvet piece with a deep plunging neckline. She could imagine waltzing into the gala feeling confident as the cameras flashed and politely ignoring the stares she'd receive. The thought made her blush, if only she could be like that in reality.

Nigel must have picked up on her adoration for the dress because he scoffed and put it away.

"Oh you are too easily impressed my dear." He said, chuckling at the indignant look he received as response.

"No I'm not! That was a really pretty-"

"But that's just it isn't it? You have to aim higher than just pretty if you're going to- say." He stopped his searching and looked at Andy curiously. Andy squirmed slightly.

"Where exactly are you going anyway? Is this a personal event or work related? You gonna peruse down Time Square or are you sitting in on a finance meeting? " He raised his eyebrows and looked at her over his glasses. Andy began to fidget. That was a really good question. She assumed work related but nowhere on the schedule did it say "Gala at 8" Miranda purposely emailed it to her instead of mentioning it allowed before Emily. Thus… leaving her to reveal to Emily that she would be waiting for the book, not Andy. Great. Emily would just love that. The thought sobered Andy right up.

"Well, um. Miranda just sorta sprung it on me this morning. She said it was a Gala, but she never mentioned what it was for or anything. And I honestly don't know what would be appropriate because she didn't tell me who this was for or what she was wearing. I mean I met the lady dressing her this evening but she wouldn't tell me and her place was such a mess I-" Andy stopped mid babble. Nigel was staring at her, slack jawed, as dawning comprehension of what she clearly missed suddenly hitting him.

"You're going to the Hemingway gala this evening? That gala? The one with all the investors, fashion moguls and celebrities, the exclusive invitation only gala, that gala?" Nigel looked beside himself as he grilled Andy for details she did not have. And she told him so, several times, and yet he still couldn't believe it. How could she have gotten into the most exclusive party of the season and not know about it? And what's worse, she was Miranda's plus-one. Just her and Miranda in a sea of important people. Which meant that this dress would have to be way more than "pretty".

"Speak of the devil." Nigel muttered as he looked at his vibrating phone. He'd just received a text that was clearly about Andy because he looked up and starred at her more intently.

"W- what is it Nigel?" she asked, absently twisting the cuff of her sleeve. Nigel just shook his head and gave a slightly sarcastic smile.

"Her majesty has informed me that you are to match her in some way. That "for God's sake, something bolder than what you usually offer her."" His imitation of Miranda was exaggerated but Andy couldn't help a giggle.

"I remember what her gown looked like, damn this is gonna be tough." He bit his lip, turning his attention to the racks of clothes. He thumbed through a few, but clearly found them to be less than adequate companions to Miranda's dress.

"Um I'm sure you can find something in all this." Andy gestured to the enormity of The Closet, there was enough outfits here to clothe half of New York City. Surely something had to match.

"For my sake I certainly hope so, now go find some grease, my God a lot of grease."


	3. Ch 3 Get Ready

A/N: As you may know, I don't own DWP :) Enjoy!

Chapter Three: Get Ready

There was a certain calm within the office that afternoon. The sort of calm that you knew wouldn't last so you have to savor every second of it. The Runway staff found themselves in that very mood. Everyone knew Miranda was still out likely making someone else's life a misery. They didn't care who so long as it wasn't them, even if it was for just a few minutes. One woman, someone from makeup, actually dared step out in flats. Yes, these precious moments without the dragon were truly to be savored.

Andy hummed a Harry Potter theme while typing away an email to the art department. They sent up the wrong color pallet for the project on life in the city. Miranda wanted bright and vibrant but instead they sent her a collection of neutral toned "garbage" as the editor had put it. She could still hear the longsuffering complaints. 'Why is it that I have to deal with several failures before they finally decide to get it right? Is it beyond the capabilities of human performance to do a task correctly the first time? Am I asking the impossible? Honestly.'

It was a real pity that they messed up today when Miranda was already on edge about something. Apparently someone failed one time too many because Miranda later had two people from the Art Department up and packing. Andy made sure to specify in her email the exact color scheme so they could avoid mix ups the next time around.

Just as she pressed send, Emily walked into the office space. Coming back from a late lunch, she looked quite satisfied. According to her the diet was over and she could now go back to eating dry salads and water. Andy hoped this meant she was in a good mood. The clock showed that it was now 3:30. While she still had some time left to break the news, she'd rather get it over with quickly incase Emily had plans.

The Brit looked over at Andy's desk and gave her the usual better-than-thou look before taking her seat. She had begun looking over some notes, intent on ignoring Andy's gaze. Andy continued to look at Emily, trying to figure out the best way to tell the first assistant that she'd be waiting to all hours for the book tonight. Finally after a short while she figured she may as well just say it.

"Emily, Miranda has asked that you wait up for the book this evening." Andy mentally braced herself for the avalanche of raving hysterics and verbal abuses she was sure to receive. She leaned slightly in her seat in a vain attempt to put more distance between herself and the woman.

Emily's face crumbled into a scowl, her eyes narrowed and her brows knit closely together. Andy winced, here it comes.

"Excuse me?" Emily asked in a menacing whisper.

"Um, she said that you would be-" Andy began.

"Yes I heard what you said, you twit." She snapped. "But why, pray tell, will I be doing the job of the second assistant when she is standing in front of me, very much alive, and has not as far as I know, received any sort of promotion over the past seven hours?" she spat. "She's been swapping our duties more and more lately, is there something going on that neither of you are telling me?"

In her defense Andy supposed this was slightly true. Miranda had been giving Andy more responsibilities as of late. It started slowly after Paris last year. First manning a meeting here and rescheduling something there. They were usually boring tasks that Emily would often complain about anyway. In Andy's opinion she thought the woman would be happy for the short breaks. But… when Andy was away at a shoot or sitting in on a run through, of course someone had to be at the office to receive calls and get coffee. Apparently Emily didn't appreciate the breaks at all if it meant spending that time in a lesser position than Andy.

"No no it's nothing like that Emily, look-"

"Well then why can't you wait for the bloody thing, it's your job isn't it?"

"She wanted me to attend an event for work, so she needs you to wait for the book. Look it's just this once-"

"Oh my God."

"And anyway it's not like I really wanna-"

"You're the Second assistant, this ought to be your task not mine."

"-go to the thing. I'm sorry about this but-"

"It makes no sense that I would have to do it-"

"Then why don't **you** tell her that?" Andy snapped. Her cheeks were red and her palms were a little sweaty. She hated yelling or being yelled at for that matter. And she certainly wasn't going to take it from Emily, not when she felt she didn't disserve it. It was hardly her fault that Miranda suddenly wanted Andy to do more than what was expected of the Second Assistant.

The woman's mouth clamped shut at the comment. Both ladies knew very well that Emily would never question Miranda in such a way. Were the thought ever to occur to her she may as well pack her things up on the spot.

Emily huffed in clear defeat and returned her gaze to the stack of notes on her desk. It was a wonder the papers didn't burst into flame from the look they received. Andy sighed and scribbled absently on a piece of paper. Why were people so difficult?

The time passed in relative silence between the two of them. Every now and again one of them would run off to do an errand. For the most part they manned their desks and waited for Miranda's arrival. Andy was just finishing a list of people she had to inform of a run-through tomorrow when her phone vibrated so loudly it nearly scared her off her seat. Emily rolled her eyes as Andy straightened herself and reached for her phone. It was a text from Miranda:

_'I'm not coming back to the office. Roy should be there to retrieve you by 7:55. Do not be late.' _

Andy looked at the time on her phone. It was 5 o'clock exactly. That meant she had just enough time to get ready before Roy arrived. But how to go about excusing herself…

"Hello ladies." Came a familiar voice from the door. Nigel had just walked in looking very pleased with himself.

"Hello Nigel, what is it?" Emily asked.

"Well," he started as he walked over and leaned on Andy's desk. "First, the Queen just called me and said she won't be returning to the castle today. And second," he glanced momentarily to Andy "I need to go over some things with Six about her little task this evening."

Emily sighed and began typing away on her computer, no longer interested in Nigel's words. "Fine, she's perfectly useless here anyway."

Andy gave a thankful smile to Nigel and gathered her things. "Have a nice night Emily." She offered as Nigel took her arm.

"Quite." She responded, not looking up from the monitor.

Smiling, Nigel said "Shall we my dear?" and together they left the office.

* * *

Andy never enjoyed showering at Runway. These parts of the bathrooms were always littered with half-naked models parading in front of the mirrors or each other. Some of them seemed quite shameless, or perhaps it was just plain old confidence. Andy couldn't see how they did it. She pulled her towel closer to her body and blushed as a rather attractive blonde woman winked at her. Walking away from the showers, she tread carefully trying not to slip on the tiled floors. She put on a fresh robe from a stack by the door and proceeded to The Closet were Nigel waited.

Nigel was standing next to a floor length mirror with a stack of clothing and jewelry propped up on a counter next to him, he was holding a long garment cover.

"Took you long enough." He said in greeting. "Now hurry up and put these on, we still have go to makeup and hair." He gave her a knowing look as if to say 'And we both know how long that's gonna be.'

"I was overwhelmed by the amount of nakedness in there. Is there a shoot going on today?" Andy asked, picking up the items on the counter.

"Yes, for the new- What's with that look?" Andy was holding up a barely there laced thong with scandalous cutouts going all the way down to a place she was sure should have been covered.

"Um what are these?" she asked, embarrassment coming to full force when she spotted the matching corset.

"Your undergarments, or are you going commando? Are we planning some sort of after show I was unaware off?" He inquired, with pure amusement on his face.

"Nigel I have my own underwear, this isn't necessary." Andy replied, eyeing the thong like it was some sort of strange, new creature.

"Honey I'm sure you paid top dollar for those lovely Victoria's Secret boy-shorts but tonight calls for Agent Provocateur. Now" he grabbed the rest of the items she was so clearly avoiding and shoved them into her arms. "Hurry up and put these on before someone comes in and sees your girls." He swiveled around so he had his back to Andy allowing him to miss the dumbfounded look on her face.

"I'd hurry up, the models might be here any second now." The sound of rampant shuffling could be heard as Andy quickly made to put on every piece of undergarment Nigel put out for her, corset and all.

When Nigel turned back around he was faced with a partially clothed and extremely embarrassed Andy. Her face was an alarming shade of red and she began to shuffle nervously from one foot to the other.

"My my my, looks like those curves are good for something other than overstuffing a skirt after all huh?" he looked over her approvingly. Andy muttered illegibly to herself.

Nigel began unzipping the garment bag he had been holding all that time. "So you remember how we had it narrowed down to two dresses?" Andy nodded. "Well I think I was being too literal with Miranda's instructions. I don't believe she wants you to match her exactly, I think she wants you to compliment her. You know? So should the two of you stand side-by-side you'd look well together but you both still have your own identities. With that being said.."

And here Nigel pulled the cover off the dress completely revealing his stunning choice. It started off as an opaque red and then dissolved into a lovely nude shade. Flecks of gold began strong at the sweetheart bodice and then ebbed away towards the bottom. The entire garment was clearly made to give the impression that you wore nothing underneath, if the flesh toned lining was anything to go by. And the cut-

"Well it had better fit because we don't have time to find another. I have a bit of Crisco if you need it."

"Oh ha ha." Andy remarked, she was still too stunned by the dress to give a proper retort. Nigel helped her into it, both carefully tugging and lifting. Finally, after only a few moments, Andy was zipped in completely. The dress was form fitting all the way to her hips before the fabric loosened and allowed for flare and flow towards the bottom. Nigel helped her onto the round platform that stood in front of the mirror. He smiled approvingly at her reflection, he'd done his job well. Andy gazed at herself, hardly believing what she saw.

"I look…"

"Gorgeous." Nigel finished, a twinkle dancing behind his glasses. "Miranda might regret inviting you to come along, you'll steal her shine."

"Yeah right." Andy scoffed, as if Miranda would ever worry about that possibility.

"Hmm," Nigel began, smoothing out the back of the dress. "Its Dior, two seasons ago but I doubt anyone would care." He offered his hand to help her down.

"I still can't believe people actually pay attention to that kind of stuf- um, detail." Andy tried to catch herself. She'd learned her lesson never to refer to anything pertaining the fashion world as mere "stuff". Nigel politely ignored the slip but still smirked at her all the same.

"You'd be surprised, I've seen girls shunned for lesser things. Now about your hair, this goody goody look is cute but you're gonna need something a lot sexier. I'm thinking Von Teese…" Nigel said, leading her down the hall of The Closet towards hair and makeup. Andy got the sneaking suspicion that Nigel (despite his protests) quite liked dressing her up, like his very own life-sized Barbie. She giggled uneasily at the idea.

A/N2: I tried my best to describe the red/gold dress from the C. Dior couture FW 2005 collection lol. I really adore that dress.


	4. Ch 4 Sway

**A/N: Hey everyone :) sorry for the delay. College and work you know.. At any rate, I don't own DWP. And also I do not have a Beta so if there are any mistakes I do apologies! Oh and I make some reference to real people. I tried to make it as accurate as possible but I'm not extremely familiar with American culture, so terribly sorry if I got it way wrong. Please enjoy :D**

Chapter 4: Sway

The main hall was packed, much like sardines in a can. There was few enough people that you could walk around, but just enough that you could find yourself lost in the crowd. The place had a curious smell, not at all unpleasant. Perhaps it was the mix of many different perfumes and the endless amount of champagne. The lights from the chandeliers shone slightly dimmer than what was expected. It gave the room a warm inviting glow, as if to further emphasize comfort. In the background a band played a soft melody that seemed to visibly relax the crowd. As Andy sipped her glass of champagne, she wondered if this was the desired effect.

She was standing with a small group of men and women discussing, or in Andy's case vaguely listening, some campaign or other.

"Yes but in my opinion he just isn't a good fit."

"He is pretty young, and if he beats Hillary he'll be going up against McCain and the rest."

"I don't know, Hillary's a tough girl."

"Doesn't hurt that her husband's former president too, eh?"

Andy couldn't help but sigh at this. And for the first time sense arriving near the group she spoke up.

"Hillary has a good record of being able to get herself out there without President Clinton holding her hand. She's been in politics for a while, which means she's had plenty of exposure to what's expected for the position. I think she could handle herself." This earned her some appreciative looks and a few glares. She didn't back down though.

"And Obama may be young but he does have a decent amount of experience. Plus he's bringing new, fresh ideas to the table. Which frankly, the government needs desperately. The old policies aren't going to cut it."

"Guess we don't have to ask what side you're on huh?" A tall, older man quipped. A few people chuckled. Andy blushed faintly and smiled politely.

"I'm for change." She responded confidently.

"Change isn't always a good thing. What makes you think any of the Democrats will know what they're doing if they got into office? They don't know anything about what's really going on in this world. All they care about is the environment and helping the poor to make themselves look good. And what about this ozone layer BS? It's all getting a little old." The older man responded, he smiled and looked around the group. A few people nodded their agreement.

"Guess we don't have to ask what side you're on huh?" Andy replied cheekily. At first she expected the gentleman to argue or take offense, but instead he laughed a deep throaty laugh that was strangely infectious. Andy found herself chuckling along with them.

"No young lady you most certainly don't" he held out his hand. "The name's Walter. Walter Evenshire. And you might be?"

Andy took his hand and gave him her firmest handshake. "Andy Sachs, a pleasure Mr. Evenshire." It dawned on Andy suddenly who this man was, and she quickly added "I've read The Mirror, it's really good writing."

"I certainly hope so as much as it's making me." He replied, taking swig from the glass of amber liquid he'd been holding.

"It was, the last issue was quite interesting. I particularly enjoyed the article about New York life and how tourists perceive it. I thought it was pretty hilarious." Andy had to stop herself from gushing. The Mirror was not a major paper by far, but it was a good one. With stories that the New York Times would probably bypass, The Mirror always promised to have a few hidden gems in their lineup.

"Well I'm glad you appreciate the writers' hard work Ms. Sachs. Tell me, out of curiosity what is your current occupation?"

"Oh, I'm a, um assistant at Runway." At this Mr. Evenshire seemed rather surprised. He was likely wondering what a mere assistant was doing at such a gathering. Andy was slowly beginning to wonder that too, Miranda had yet to show herself.

"Hmm, you know," He began, but got distracted by a woman squeezing his arm in greeting. He flashed her a toothy grin and bowed his head a bit in acknowledgment. The two people began exchanging pleasantries. Andy sipped her champagne and stepped back a bit out of courtesy. When Mr. Evenshire finished, he looked around and caught sight of Andy again.

"Excuse me Ms. Sachs, what was I saying? Oh yes, you know you remind me of my reporters." He gave her a knowing, almost fatherly smile. Andy perked up a bit at this, silly of course, but it wasn't everyday someone told her she seemed like a reporter.

"Oh?" she managed.

"Mm-hmm you got the same look in your eyes. Like you're hungry for something." He took another swig from his glass, smiling as he did so.

"Or maybe you're just hungry." He chuckled, his cheeks had turned red from the alcohol.

"Well being in a crowd like this does leave you starved for intellectual stimulation. Present company excluded." She said, casting her eyes briefly over the bubbling crowd.

Mr. Evenshire eyed her with amusement before saying "And you certainly don't seem short of an opinion. Tell you what," He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a card. Handing it to Andy he said "If you're ever in need of a "change" why don't you give us a call, I'm sure we could find a place for a smart girl like you." With that, he bowed his head to her and allowed himself to be pulled into another group discussion.

Andy walked away, looking down at the card she'd just received. A slow grin creped on her face. She had just made a connection, one that had nothing to do with Miranda and Runway. Someone had noticed her without her having to flaunt who she worked for. She tucked the card away into her clutch purse and still wearing her grin, swapped her empty champagne flute for a fresh one. Taking a generous sip, she hummed as the liquid fizzed against her throat. Perhaps tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

She passed the next few moments by chatting casually with the people around her. The topics varied from the stock market to the latest affair. Apparently even financially endowed people enjoyed a good gossip. Most of the information was meaningless to her, but Andy listened anyway. You never knew when such knowledge would prove useful. She was currently involved in a group who chattered away about some celebrity one of them had been frequenting. Mrs. Von Heisenberg was five minutes into her story when someone tapped Andy lightly on the shoulder. As she turned to see who it might be, she was greeted with a large smile depicting perfect white teeth.

" 'ello Ahndee, fancy meeting you here." Nana said cheerily, cocking her head to the side playfully.

"Oh hi Nana" Andy eyed the designer up and down briefly, taking in her appearance. A habit she seemed to have picked up from work. Nana's outfit resembled an upside down flower bud. It was unlike any of the dresses Andy had ever seen. "You look stunning." She finished, Andy fought the blush that threatened her face, Nana really did look great.

"Why thank you Ahndee, so do you. Christian Dior suits you perfectly." At this Nana did a very poor job of hiding her eyes dragging slowly down Andy's figure. "I must say." She added, finally meeting the other woman's gaze. The blush that Andy strove to keep at bay finally spilled over her cheeks. She took another sip of champagne.

"So, um enjoying yourself so far?" Andy asked shakily. She forced herself not to fiddle with her purse. She really needed to work on that. Nana gave her a tired smile in response.

"In truth, I've only been down here for 10 minutes. I've been trapped upstairs mending my creation." She sighed. "But so far, yes I'm enjoying myself very much." She leaned her head towards Andy as if this comment were some sort of secret. They stood only a foot apart and so Nana's perfume wafted gently. Vanilla, Andy thought, and something else.

Andy cleared her throat as if to clear her mind. "Your creation. Oh gosh you mean Miranda's dress? Did something happen?"

The serene smile Nana wore evaporated instantly into a bitter scowl that could rival Emily. As if she'd forgotten what happened to the dress until just that moment.

"Yes, some daft idiot was fixing Miranda's hair. I don't know how she managed it but she snapped off two strings of crystals from the bloody dress! I could have strangled her, the twit. But Miranda got to her before I could." She glanced at Andy whose face was slipping into horror when she added "Verbally of course. At any rate it's all fixed now, she should be down any minute."

"And what a sight she'll be." Came a familiarly amused voice from Andy's side. Both women turned to see Nigel in all of his fabulous glory. He was dressed in a slim black tuxedo with a spice berry/plaid bow tie. He offered his glass to them and they clinked in a silent toast. As she watched him sip his martini Andy asked "Why didn't you say you'd be coming too? We could've came together." Certainly it would have helped calm her down on the ride over.

"Well I didn't know I'd be coming, did I? I received a last minute call from Miranda telling me that I was to be in attendance and so." He gestured in a sweeping motion towards himself. "Voila." According to Nigel, Miranda managed to have some poor couple booted out of the gathering to make room for Nana and him.

"Perhaps someday I won't have to come to her every beck and call. But tonight isn't so bad." He and Nana clinked in agreement. Andy just smiled, working for Miranda could be hell but it wasn't without its perks.

"I've only been here for a few minutes and I've already got three numbers." Nigel could barely seem to suppress his glee. The women looked to one another and then to Nigel, giving him knowing smirks. He rolled his eyes.

"From clients you ninnies."

"Oh yeah?"

"Runway's offering that sort of service now is it?" Andy and Nana snorted as Nigel made a great show of being scandalized. Despite that, the tips of his ears had turned pink.

"You both have sick little minds don't you?" he said over his martini glass. Nana giggled and playfully nudged Andy. She shrugged her shoulders helplessly as if to say 'What are you gonna do?'

Nigel shook his head and casually looking around the room he said "Well one of the numbers was just for me, we'll leave it at that shall we?" He glanced over to see the women trying their best not to double over with laughter. He grinned at the sight.

"Knew it." They said in unison.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get it out of your system." He glanced up towards the staircase and smirked. "And quickly too, don't want Miranda seeing her minions in such a state do we?"

Andy stifled her amusement long enough to give Nigel a curious look. "What are you talking about, Miranda hasn't come down yet." In response Nigel simply lifted his chin towards the grand staircase that connected the private upper floor to the hall. As Andy's eyes drifted across the room to the staircase she noticed that nearly everyone was looking in the same direction. The hall became markedly quieter with only the band and a few murmurs to fill the silence.

There was only one person who had the ability to capture the awe and envy of everyone in the hall. Only one person could silence a room so effectively without even trying. And naturally everyone knew that this individual was the only one in attendance worth halting themselves for.

Miranda appeared at the top of the grand staircase, a vision in gold. It would soon become clear to everyone that she was made for grand entrances. The light from the chandeliers reflected from her body and seemed to cause her to glow. Or perhaps she always glowed. No one seemed to recall her doing so before this instant, but the oozing of color and light from her form came so natural it was difficult to tell. The woman in question took a short moment to look about the crowd below, if for no other reason than to gather how many people were in attendance that evening. She turned her head slightly to the gentleman to her right. One could imagine she was relating this comment to him. He too looked about the commoners below him, gave a nod and word of agreement and then offered his arm to her. Together they began their decent to the sea of curious stares below.

The staircase was a long one, but Miranda and her mystery companion made quick work of it. By the time they reached the halfway point of the fixture Miranda's dress became more apparent. A high neck halter that appeared to be made up entirely of golden crystals graced her neck. The crystals had a firm grip until they reached her collarbones. At this point they loosened their hold and gradually draped across her frame, similar to a necklace, all the way down to her naval. The material underneath this construction was of a golden/nude tint. The fabric hugged at curves most never knew she had. Smaller crystals shown from behind their stringed companions in an almost armor-like way before slowly scattering and becoming scarcer as they flowed down her body. The dress was diaphanous, just sheer enough that the faint outline of toned legs could be seen beneath it.

As Miranda and her escort finally reached the base of the stairs the guests slowly went back to what they were doing before. A few brave souls decided they would be first to greet the editor. For their bravery they received an alarmingly charming smile, one woman even got an air kiss. This "party-mode" as Andy called it was in clear contrast with the venomous mood she held hours before. How Miranda so expertly schooled her emotions was still a mystery to Andy. As far a she could see the only evidence that anything had been wrong with Miranda was her eyes. Her gaze was sharp and calculating, like a lion searching for its next victim. And the poor lambs that surrounded her hadn't a clue.

"My God," Nigel said. "The design is even more stunning than I remember." He turned to Nana and gave her an impressed look. Nana blew out her cheeks as if letting go of her breath she had been holding. Miranda had made it down the stairs in one piece, and judging by the buzz in the room the dress was a success. A few women were already asking about the brains behind such a garment.

"Thanks Nigel. Oi, I'll take another." Nana quickly switched her empty flute with a fresh one, downing half in one gulp. "Sorry, bit nervous." She answered to Nigel and Andy's raised eyebrows.

Nearly a whole hour passed at the gala and by this time it was in full swing. If it looked odd to anyone that Andy was not shadowing Miranda by now, it was simply that Andy couldn't seem to do it. Every time she made to go over to her, Miranda would disappear, only to reappear clear on the other side of the room. Eventually after several tries Andy gave up and figured she'd just keep a look out on occasion to ensure Miranda didn't need her.

People danced and talked and drank more and more as the evening progressed. It became clear that this event was being held mostly to help everyone make connections. 'And boy are they doing it.' Andy thought to herself. Nigel and Nana had raked up 12 numbers combined. New clients and potential projects would surely be a help to both of them. Andy had gotten a respectable amount of three numbers so far. One of which was a certain competing editor who wanted to steal Andy away. (She quickly tossed that card aside) She was also learning quite a bit from the moguls and socialites around her. Like the hottest restaurants, how best to bribe the mayor, and what celebrity would be coming to town soon. Information she hoped would prove useful to her at some point.

Andy was just in the middle of debating how relevant 50 Cent was to the fashion world when something shiny and golden caught her eye. A few paces away Miranda was walking with her mystery escort to the middle of the floor. A decent portion in the middle of the hall had been cleared out for those who wished to dance. There were at least ten couples twirling about before Miranda arrived there. The people instinctively gave them some space as they began to join in.

Andy struggled to keep herself from gawking as she watched Miranda glide elegantly across the floor with her partner. The woman oozed confidence as they moved along to the rhythm of the song Sway, sung by a lady standing near the band who had the most sensual voice Andy had ever heard. Her cheeks stung as she watched Miranda's hips roll to every turn the song took.

Despite Miranda's skills with her dancing companion, she did not seem solely interested in him. As they turned about the floor Miranda's eyes wondered from person to person before finally settling on Andy. This froze the assistant to the spot, and unable to move Andy helplessly watched Miranda bend and sway. In turn Miranda took every opportunity to glance at Andy from the dance floor. Andy shifted against her corset, becoming increasingly aware of her body and how suddenly hot she felt.

Finally the song drew to a close and a softer melody took its place. Miranda's partner seemed to excuse himself leaving her to navigate the sea of people alone. She handled it easily of course as she did nearly every outing. After a short while of chatting lightly with the people around her Andy saw Miranda make her way towards her. Andy immediately went over a list of things Miranda might need in this moment and tried desperately not to notice how sheer her outfit really was.

"Andrea." Miranda said in greeting, instantly going over Andy's outfit. Andy held her breath as she waited for the verdict.

"Quite acceptable." She finally finished. "I trust you've been doing something useful and not standing around like a mindless drone." Miranda had turned her back to Andy mid-sentence, giving Andy a full view of her backless dress. She gulped and moved herself to Miranda's side. They both looked on at the other guests as Andy answered.

"Well I spoke with Mr. Evenshire of The Mirror." She paused for effect, but not receiving the reaction she'd hoped for she pouted inwardly and moved on. "I also bumped into Robbie Myers who expressed her- um, "concern" for my choice of employment." Andy instantly regretted sharing this with Miranda, she felt like a child tattling on some naughty school mate. Miranda rolled her eyes so hard Andy half feared they'd get stuck.

"That vulture is always trying to steal my assistants. Her attempts at Emily are too numerous to count." She drawled. "So I suppose it was only a matter of time before she came after you. I cannot fathom why she seems to be at a loss for decent help but it is no problem of mine." She sniffed. Andy didn't know much about the Robbie/Miranda feud other than it involved several mutinous employees and a bad tip about a Betsey Johnson and Michael Kors collaboration. The prospect sounded very unappealing to Andy.

"At any rate," Miranda turned slightly to face Andy. "I do hope you have been enjoying yourself despite certain unwelcome advances. Though," and here Miranda paused and seemed to look over Andy once more, eyes darkening as she did so. Andy gulped audibly. "I'm sure you've had no end of flattering compliments. Perhaps even a few gentlemanly offers?" She inquired casually, as though asking about the weather.

Andy's brain shutdown for five seconds to allow this statement to sink in. It wasn't an odd thing to say to someone. If Andy were honest, it was really rather nice. However the fact that Miranda seemed even vaguely concerned whether Andy was enjoying herself was.. odd. Which was sad to admit but Miranda never showed much care for how she or Emily felt. Add to that the compliment she had just bestowed upon Andy. She was beginning to wonder if she'd entered some kind of twilight zone.

Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the dress, either way Andy decided to play along with this turn in Miranda's mood.

"Well there were some cat-calls I mean what can I say." She shrugged and looked up to the ceiling. Miranda snorted softly, clearly finding the mock vanity amusing. "But as for offers, if they had I wouldn't be interested."

"Ah, still carrying on with the chef I see." She said "chef" as if it were dirty, which stung Andy a bit.

"No, Nate and I-" She bit her lip. "We broke up." A small sense of satisfaction seeped into Andy, but she didn't know why.

A flash of something unidentifiable crossed Miranda's face for a quick moment before disappearing behind a mask of confidence and charm. The woman closed her eyes briefly, allowing the corners of her mouth to twitch into something of a smile. Despite that she said "My condolences of course." She did not look the least bit sorry.

"But if you are no longer bound then, forgive me, why not partake?" **What?** Andy looked at her glass and pondered if someone had laced it with a hallucinogen.

"Um, I just didn't feel it, you know?" She mentally kicked herself. Was she in the 9th grade or something?

Miranda tilted her head slightly in a very feline sort of way. "Didn't feel it, hmm." She repeated, as if contemplating the meaning. Andy's face turned red for the thousandth time that evening. She was just about to dig herself into a deeper hole when Miranda's mystery escort returned. He looked exhausted but pleased to see them.

"That Grierson sure can talk can't he?" The man said, dark brown eyes sparkling with mirth. His voice was deep and warm and reminded Andy of a lit fireplace, which made no sense she realized. He stood a whole head taller than both women and had graying black hair. Overall quite handsome Andy had to admit.

"Daniel this is Andrea, my assistant. Andrea this is Daniel Fujiwara, President of the Morimoto publishing firm in Japan." Miranda smiled politely as Andy shook the man's hand. She had no idea who this man was but she intended to find out.

Daniel then regaled them with tales of the encounters he'd had that evening, each more amusing than the last. By the end of it Miranda could not quite hide her chuckles and her cheeks were a pale shade of pink. It was a strange but wonderful sight. She even drank freely from her glass of champagne that Daniel had passed to her earlier. Miranda was really enjoying herself. Andy then realized Miranda had been here for nearly two and a half hours which meant that she must really be having a good time. As custom dictates she'd have left nearly an hour ago.

"Well anyway, after he finally stopped babbling about his "boat" he agreed to the offer." Daniel sighed contentedly, sipping his own drink. "Suppose he just wanted to get that off his chest." Miranda shook her head in pity and Andy smiled enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.

"And what of your conquests Miranda?" Daniel asked.

Miranda shot Andy a quick glance as if contemplating whether she could be trusted. Reaching a decision she said "Mr. Mathews and Mr. Calloway have both.. submitted. So in all, a moderate success." Miranda practically purred with satisfaction. It sent shivers down Andy's spine to see how much inner glee it gave Miranda to bring two investors (she assumed) to their wrinkled knees. The hunt had begun the moment she walked down those stairs and there were already two casualties. Three if you included Daniel's capture. They seemed to make a formidable duo so far.

But why were they a duo in the first place? Andy's curiosity was definitely peeked.

Eventually Miranda grew tired of standing on formalities. She politely excused herself, and by extension Andy, for the evening. Daniel seemed to understand and bade them farewell. The two men they were chatting with quickly gave their cards to Andy, clearly wanting a call back from the editor.

The hall was just big enough that Andy had time to text Roy that they had finished. As they made their way to the main doors she spotted Nana chatting with a bizarrely dressed woman in a polka-dot dress and bright red wig. Nana caught Andy's gaze and winked, lifting her glass to her as goodbye. Andy then tried spotting Nigel but he was nowhere to be seen.

Roy of course was parked just beyond the door when they stepped out. Both butlers, upon seeing the pair walk up, immediately made to open the car doors. When Andy and Miranda were safely inside they bowed their heads slightly and sent them off. Roy pulled away from the mansion and the ride back was spent in relative silence. It wasn't until they reached the city did words fill the air.

And for whatever reason Andy found the words came from her.

"I really enjoyed myself tonight so, um.. thanks for inviting me. It was a great learning experience." Miranda's eyebrows raised, the only indication that she'd heard. Andy went on. "Of course everyday as your assistant is a learning experience. Um, not to say that I'm still trying to catch up but I-" she was halted mid-babble by a delicately raised hand.

"Andrea." Miranda said with a hint of exasperation. Silence once more.

It was five minutes later when Miranda spoke.

"You must learn how to control that nervous tick of yours. That's not the first time I've heard you break out in gibberish." She cast Andy a sidelong look. "How do you expect to gain influence in your desired field with such an easy tell?" She turned her regal head back to the window, clearly she didn't expect an answer.

Andy would later blame this next statement on the three or four glasses of champagne she had that evening.

"The only time I ever get so nervous I speak in "gibberish" is when it's to you or in reference to you. Otherwise I'm a fairly well composed person." She finished weakly.

Miranda turned her head slowly back to Andy. Once again the corset beneath her dress became incredible hot and uncomfortable. Her whole body must be red, she'd thought. She began to find the dark floor of the Mercedes very interesting. As the car pulled up to the townhouse, Miranda made a noise as if she were going to say something. Andy's head snapped up in attention.

Miranda closed her mouth, abandoning her original thought. Instead she simply looked at Andy. Closely, the way she did at the gala when she danced with Daniel. Her blue eyes were darkened and mysterious. She continued to watch Andy silently until Roy finally made his way to her door. As she stepped out she uttered a barely audible "Good night." And in a flash of gold she was gone.

'Good night Miranda.' Andy thought as Roy drove away.


End file.
